


Saved by The Bush

by SensationalSunburst



Series: Small Angry Gardeners [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Domestic, Ficlet, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 19:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13508532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: The thought never occurred to Andrew that Neil, body long and loose atop the desk they’d shoved against the windows to smoke atop of, would exhale and smile and lean the entirety of his body weight against the flimsy mesh that separated him from a plunge to the ground below.





	Saved by The Bush

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. 
> 
> Particularly, "-do you remember that time I fell out of the window/ yeah and you came jumping out after me."

Andrew didn't do heights.

He never had.

It was an instinctive fear, one that he was born with, rather than one that had been forced upon him; an acceptable and controllable emotional response, even if it was unwanted. Be it on rooftop or desktop, he held that fear in his hand, was able to play with his pulse by leaning forward or stepping back. It was this fear, ingrained into his bones, this thoughtless dance between avoidance and exposure, that meant that he hadn't anticipated Neil leaning his back against the screen of the second story window in their new bedroom.

In their _new_ bedroom in their _new_ house; their _first_ house. Their new house with it’s original hardwood, new furniture, new drapes that contrasted against Neil’s hair so vividly that it may as well have been made of fire.

The thought never occurred to Andrew that Neil, body long and loose atop the desk they’d shoved against the windows to smoke atop of, would exhale and smile and lean the entirety of his body weight against the flimsy mesh that separate him from a plunge to the ground below.

Beneath those windows, the windows that Andrew never thought Neil would seriously lean against, were perhaps the most hideous hedges that Andrew had ever had the misfortune of seeing. Fluffy, wild and out of control, they circled the entirety of the front of the home and would need to be removed, post haste. He’d said as much to Neil when they first moved into their new neighborhood--if it could even be called that. The real estate agent had described it as a “retired neighborhood”. Small, quiet and neat; they we're in a small cul de sac at the end of their street, with only three other houses. Two of which were occupied by octogenarians and the last by a woman about their age who delivered baked goods to her neighbors as if it was her job.

(She was an accountant, according to the FBI, with a standing restraining order against a heavy handed ex and a meaty little pitbull that barked if you so much as sniffed at her side of the property line.)

It stood two stories tall, with bay windows in the kitchen that were echoed upstairs in the bedroom, and rimmed with those god awful hedges. Neil had argued to keep them, as his half-assed googling said they'd flower beautifully come spring.

But Andrew wasn't thinking of the hedges and their alleged flowers.

He was thinking about how Neil's lips formed a perfect “O” in surprise, even through the scar that cut so close to his mouth, as the screen Andrew had ripped out to smoke from just days ago gave way from behind him. He hadn't reinstalled it, he remembered now, as Neil seemed to fall backwards in slow motion, his cigarette slipping from his mouth; he'd just put it back to avoid having to hear Neil bitch about property damage.

His fall was piercingly silent except for the sound of Andrew's desk chair as it crashed to the floor behind him, a victim of his desperation to get his hands on Neil, any part of Neil, to keep him inside.

Maybe Neil had made a noise, maybe he'd said something, but Andrew heard nothing but his own blood thundering through his ears as his fingers closed on the empty air where Neil Josten used to be.

Without hesitation, Andrew vaulted cleanly over the desk and feet first through the window after him.

He didn't think about the drop, the fall or the rough landing into the prickly padding of untrimmed hedges. His mind was solely focused on Neil's form, supine on the grass, blinking dazed up at the crystal clear night sky as he tore himself free from the bushes to drop beside him, heavy as an earthquake.

“Andrew,” Neil said, seemingly bewildered, “I thought you were afraid of heights.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Andrew pinned Neil down with a shaking hand to the center of his chest and a snarl as he tried to sit up.

“I'm fine,” Neil said, taking on what passed for his soothing voice, “The hedges caught me.” He moved his hand, scratched and bleeding from where he must have tried to catch himself, to rest atop Andrew's.

“I said shut the fuck up.”

“I promise.” Neil pushed himself upright, grimacing as he plucked errant twigs from his hair. “I may have broken my ass though, wanna check for me?”

Andrew’s expression could have frozen hell.

“What happened to the window screen?” Neil asked, ignoring the empty threat.

“Are y'all alright?!” Their neighbor, the young woman, peeked out her front door, some kind of garish green goop covering her face. At her feet, her dog huffed and snuffed about, peering at them from between the posts on her porch.

“Yes, thank you!” Neil called back, undoubtedly more friendly than Andrew would have been. He climbed to his feet, letting Andrew’s still trembling fingers shove him back towards the house,

“Old house, you know? Gotta work out the kinks!”

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom!  
> Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to pop a comment below.  
> <3


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